Nine Months: Ten Days
by WinchestersGirl
Summary: Ten days that Dean Winchester will never forget, ten days he'd relive in a heartbeat. [Tag to the Nine Months stories.]


**Title:**Nine Months: Ten Days

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **It's a tag to the Nine Months stories! Hope you enjoy!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

There's ten days that Dean will never forget, ten days that he'd relive in a heartbeat. 

-

One.

One is the day that Sam said they needed to relax.

It was a simple hotel room in a simple town called _Woodsville._ Crappy name, quaint town.

The demon's dead, dad's gone. So why not?

You agree to stay for two weeks – no more, no less.

And on the third day you meet Mackenzie.

-

Two.

The second day is having three months pass in _Woodsville_.

You and Sammy are sharing an apartment, holding honest jobs.

You're dating that girl you met in the dinner the other day – Mackenzie. She was actually the reason you told Sammy that you were staying here if he left or not.

And that was something.

But it's your two and half month anniversary so you're taking her for dinner.

When you're gazing at the stars, her sitting in your lap afterward, you can't help but whisper it. "I love you."

And that's the night she grants you access to two of the things you crave the most: her heart and her body.

-

Three.

The third day is the day your wife hands you your first born son. River.

He's gorgeous and stares up at you with those beautiful eyes.

You can't help but wonder what took him so long. You've missed him more than you can ever imagine missing someone you've never known.

You kiss his forehead, thank his mother, and give her a kiss.

You don't think life can get any better.

-

Four.

The fourth day is the day your baby is still at birth. It's also the day you get two little girls.

Rain's dead and there's nothing you can do. It hurts so bad inside. You wanted another boy to love.

But you've got two gorgeous baby girls now. Pandora and Patia. Your daughters.

Three children. God grant you the strength.

But you just smile. You've got children to pamper with kisses and hugs.

Life is good.

-

Five.

The fifth day is the day you watch your son get his diploma.

It's been a long road; still is.

But for some reason, your heart tightens at the sight of your smiling son, your boy who you raised through all the good times and bad, being handed his high school diploma. Smiling, waving, and turning that stupid little tassel that signifies his being a graduate.

And you can't wait for your girls to do the same.

-

Six.

The sixth day is letting Patia marry that boy who's been doting on her for the past three years.

It took the boy – his name's John – six months to ask your daughter out, another year and a half to ask you for permission to marry her.

You granted it before even thinking. You always knew they made a good pair.

The engagement's about nine months and then the wedding.

You walk Patia down the aisle, smiling the whole way. She's so confident about this that it scares you.

But you're confident too.

And when John takes her from you, you can't help but smile. Because you know he'll love her and take care of her forever.

You just hope that Patia will remember her father.

She gives you a smile as she steps into place for the ceremony.

And you know she will.

-

Seven.

The seventh day is Pandora giving you a grandbaby.

It's getting the call from her husband – Jason, who did not ask for her hand but you like him anyway – as he babbles, "I'm at the hospital. Pandora's going into labor."

Mackenzie manages to keep you home for a few hours since labor can last a long time. Finally, you both practically fly to the Mercy Hospital.

It's another hour before a little girl is born. Alexandra Mary.

You hold her third – which really counts as first, because really the mom and dad don't count since that's a given – and you see her smile for the first time in her life.

That makes you smile. "Hi, Alexandra. I'm Grandpa. Listen, no matter what Mommy and Daddy tell you: you can always come to me and I'll always help you out, kiddo. Okay? I'm your Grandpa. It's my job to take care of you and spoil you rotten."

And you just have to ask the parents, "When am I getting more grandchildren?"

-

Eight.

The eighth day is waking up and turning over in bed to Mackenzie.

It's her smell of roses – first, when you were younger: raspberries; then powder; then the roses – and her touch of silk.

You can't help but think how lucky you were, how beautiful she is. And that's when you realize those thoughts were spoken out loud.

But she doesn't mind, pulling you down for a kiss, handing you your bottle of Viagra, unbuttoning her night top.

You stop her. You want this to be like when you were kids. Kids – you mean younger. Like 20s and 30s young. It was sweet and passionate - all about pleasing the other - and not just about getting up there and letting it out.

So you tell her.

She smiles, kissing you, agreeing, but still saying, "Take the Viagra, dear, or we'll never get there."

And it's like when you were young parents.

You never want it to end.

-

Nine.

The ninth day is the last Christmas you spend on this Earth.

You're old – eighty-nine old. But the grandkids still run to you – from the sixteen-year-old to the two-year-old.

You tell stories of their Great Uncle Sammy and of their Grandmother. You let them know all about their Great-Great Grandfather John and their Great-Great Grandmother Mary. You tell them scary stories about Santa being evil.

And you see it all in the ten pairs of eyes watching you: love, devotion,_Winchester._

You couldn't ask for any more.

-

Ten.

The tenth day is sitting in the hospital, ready to die.

Your kidneys are failing and you're ready to go on. Mackenzie passed a week before; you miss her so bad it actually hurts physically. Sammy died a month back (his wife moved in with her daughter four states over afterward).

There's nothing left except your kids and your grandkids. You're ready to let them go now; they need to keep up with their lives.

River and his wife, Lauren, give you a hug and a kiss – him holding on a little too long. Their four kids – aged two to six (they swore no more) – jump on your bed and ask for another story. You give them one with a smile.

Patia and her husband, John, say goodbye with their two kids – seven and twelve. The kids cry a little because they know they'll never see Grandpa again. But, what really gets your heart strings is their seven-year-old whispering in your ear, "You're my favorite Grandpa, Popa."

Pandora and her husband, Jason, are last with their four kids – sixteen, thirteen, nine, and ten. Even though two are foster babies, you see the Winchester in their eyes. You know they're your legacy. And it's Jason who makes you sure that it's okay to go on, "Sir, I'll take care of your family for you – all of them. I want to thank you, though. Without you, I wouldn't have the chance to have a wife and kids." That's when you notice the hunter glint in his eye and you're dead positive that his father was one of your old hunting buddies.

And hunters make the best family men.

You know it'll all be okay so you let go of your body.

And journey into Heaven.


End file.
